


Surströmming

by whatthefoucault



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Dorks, Food, M/M, Mutual Pining, New York City, Sauna, Sleepy Cuddles, video games - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:47:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23119462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatthefoucault/pseuds/whatthefoucault
Summary: “I’m afraid time has not been so kind to me,” he said with a maudlin smile, sighing softly. Very much did it feel in recent years that his age was catching up to him.Hulk frowned at that. “Hulk be kind to Thor,” he said at last, clapping a heavy hand on Thor’s shoulder.“Thank you,” replied Thor, patting Hulk’s hand with his own, which looked so strangely small in comparison. “I consider it a great blessing to get to call you a friend.”... in which Thor and Hulk (and sometimes Banner) attempt, albeit badly, to navigate their feelings for each other.Written for the Marvel Rare Pair Bang, with illustration by the illustriousnonexistenz.
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Thor, En Dwi Gast | Grandmaster/Loki, Hiroim/Korg of Krona, Hulk/Thor
Comments: 20
Kudos: 74
Collections: Marvel Rare Pair Bang 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is, my written entry for the Marvel Rare Pair Bang! Massive thanks to [nonexistenz](https://nonexistenz.tumblr.com/) for the gorgeous artwork, and to [Lucidnancyboy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucidnancyboy/) for the beta.
> 
> [And here's the absolutely gorgeous artwork!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23106100)

The family dinners among the Avengers (and their ever-expanding extended family) were a far cry from the banquets of Asgard, but no less of a welcome respite from life’s unending business. The friends would gather round the table of whoever was hosting that night, putting on a dizzying spread of good things to eat and drink. Sometimes, depending on the host and the night in question, it would be a comforting, home-cooked dinner; other nights, they threw themselves at the mercy of whichever restaurants within delivery range had the highest ratings on Seamless.

Wanda was hosting on the night in question, which meant hearty cabbage soup topped with a tangle of tangy sauerkraut, fluffy dumplings stuffed with sheep’s cheese and more cabbage and sprinkled with fried onions and drowned in sour cream, and – if they were very very lucky – soft little gingerbreads, filled with plum jam.

Thor surveyed the kitchen in search of something that paired well with Asgardian mead. Ooh, raspberries, he thought. Those would do quite nicely. He plopped a couple of the little frozen berries into his drink, which bobbled and floated prettily to the top, buoyed by bubbles.

Just as he was about to investigate the provenance of the picturesque landscape postcard affixed to the refrigerator, he heard the unmistakable, gently heavy tread of Hulk Socks padding into the kitchen.

“Well met, dear Hulk!” enthused Thor, raising his arms with such spirited delight that at least one raspberry went flying straight out of his plastic party cup, rolling deep beneath the refrigerator: its desiccated remains would no doubt therefore only be rediscovered in some years’ time when the kitchen was due for renovations, alongside a likely collection of stale cereal pieces and possibly a magnet or two.

“Thor,” nodded Hulk, peering into the fridge. “Magic Wanda want more sour cream.”

A chill draught wafted past Thor as Hulk gingerly shut the refrigerator door. It was not the warmest of days to begin with, and Thor really ought to have worn a sweater under his jacket, he thought. Despite the season, however, Hulk was dressed for a pool party.

Hulk was nearly always dressed for a pool party.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” said Thor, “how come you rarely wear a shirt?”

“Banner need stretchier shirts,” said Hulk, flexing his bicep by way of demonstration.

“You could just have shirts made in your size.”

“Hulk not shy,” he shrugged. “Positive body image.”

“Don’t misunderstand,” added Thor, “I wasn’t – I’m not complaining. You should wear, or not wear, whatever you wish, my friend.”

Hulk smiled. “Thor not so bad either,” he said, and if he noticed that Thor was blushing, he was polite enough not to say.

“I’m afraid time has not been so kind to me,” he said with a maudlin smile, sighing softly. Very much did it feel in recent years that his age was catching up to him.

Hulk frowned at that. “Hulk be kind to Thor,” he said at last, clapping a heavy hand on Thor’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” replied Thor, patting Hulk’s hand with his own, which looked so strangely small in comparison. “I consider it a great blessing to get to call you a friend.”

Hulk grunted in companionable agreement, before turning back to the party.

\---

It is difficult, it turned out, to sneak out of a party unnoticed when you are a Hulk. Hulk, by virtue of his impressive stature and imposing musculature, took up space. This was something he revelled in, some of the time; now, however, he had hoped to make a quiet exit.

Time has not been kind, Thor had said; indeed, time was rarely kind to those who chose a super heroic career path (or had it thrown at them, as was often the case). It was hard to conceive of a life such as theirs that was not littered with tragedy. But Thor, whose heart was among the purest Hulk had known, who had always been kind even when time had shown nothing but cruel indifference, deserved kindness, and love.

Also, he was way hotter than he had given himself credit for.

Hulk was not immune to introspection, he thought, as he shimmied as gracefully as he could through the too-narrow subway entrance. Perhaps he did not word good – at least not by the standards of the sort of tiresome people who liked to come into his instagram feed with comments that started “actually,” or “technically,” to tell him that he did, in fact, not word _well_ – but he felt feelings. He felt them with his whole heart.

He maybe had feelings for Thor.

That evening, he chose to acknowledge these by loading Lego Jurassic Park into his Xbox One.

\---

It was not long after dinnertime when Thor found himself at Banner’s front door, but he was already tired. The door was open.

“Banner?” Thor called into the room.

The only response was a quiet grunt from the sofa. There was Hulk, mashing his thumbs against the specially-designed controller that let him play video games with his extra-large hands.

“Ah,” said Thor, leaving his shoes neatly by the front door before entering the room. “Well met, Hulk.”

“Banner nap,” said Hulk, patting the unoccupied sofa cushion beside him, which Thor took as a cue to sit. “Hulk smash Lego.”

On the television screen were those little buildings and people made from plastic building blocks that Banner sometimes liked to build, but the little people were moving and breaking the buildings and objects with implausible levels of strength. Also, there were dinosaurs.

“Very well smashed, my friend,” replied Thor, as the little scientist onscreen reduced a large dinosaur skeleton to a pile of bones in a few swift punches.

“Wanna be Player 2?” Hulk asked him, waving a second controller at Thor, who took it carefully, cradling its comfortable weight in his hands.

“Hulk playing science lady with yellow hair, Thor play science man with stupid hat,” instructed Hulk. “Green button jump, blue button punch.”

Thor dutifully tested the controller’s function, sending his character stumbling into an electric fence.

“Takes practice,” Hulk assured him, laying a heavy hand on Thor’s shoulder. He should have found this patronising at best, but was strangely comforted.

He knew that his heart was not in smashing video bricks that evening; indeed, he was not entirely sure what it was that had drawn him, inexorably it had seemed, to seek out Banner. Or rather, Hulk. His friend, regardless.

“Perhaps I should just... observe this level.” He smiled politely, setting his controller down.

“Hey,” Hulk protested, “Thor not _that_ bad at dinosaurs. Don’t like Lego?”

“I can very much see the appeal,” said Thor, “but... I suppose I am a bit distracted.”

Hulk paused the game, and set his controller down carefully. He turned to Thor, his eyes soft with curiosity and concern.

“Thor sad,” he observed.

“No, really, Thor just fine,” replied Thor. “Just a little tired, that’s all.”

Hulk scoffed. “Hulk not stupid. Thor sad. Hulk help.”

“That really isn’t necess- ”

But before Thor could finish that thought, he was being scooped up by a pair of strong arms, as though he weighed nothing at all. He found himself being placed onto the soft mattress of a Hulk-sized bed, sinking gently into the nest of downy comforters, which felt as though he were suspended in a warm cloud.

“Talk to Hulk.”

Thor was moved by the invitation – and moved again by the sudden rebalance in the mattress as Hulk joined him in the blanket nest.

“Fine,” conceded Thor, “perhaps I am a very tiny bit sad.”

He probably should have made an attempt to right himself, thought Thor, but Hulk was warm and comfortable to lay against, and he did not seem to mind.

“Why sad?”

Thor drew a deep breath.

“It’s just... it’s a lot sometimes,” he said quietly. “I know, I know, even for a god of thunder.”

He felt the rumble of Hulk’s soft grunt of agreement as much as he could hear it.

“Not easy being Thor.” Hulk curled a strong arm around Thor’s chest, and Thor leaned into him. It was rare that Thor encountered someone of such impressive size, so much greater than Thor’s own – and typically, when he did, they traded blows, not cuddles. This was nice, he thought, being nestled in a pair of strong arms; he felt safe with Hulk, comforted. Hulk was wiser than some of their friends gave him credit for.

“I have a duty to my people, and to the people of Midgard,” he said softly. “A responsibility. I tried to save everything, everyone... but it wasn’t enough. I let my friends down, I let Asgard down. I’m not strong enough.”

“No!” Hulk protested. “Thor good leader. Good friend. Thor did good. Can’t always do everything. But Thor always help. That what matters.”

Thor sighed. “Thank you,” he said. “But it’s still a lot sometimes.”

“Shh,” Hulk whispered, his heavy fingertips stroking Thor’s hair with surprising gentleness, “everybody sad sometimes. Hulk here.”

“Thank you, my friend,” Thor said softly.

Hulk, it turned out, had an uncanny ability to put things into perspective, thought Thor. He was smarter than people knew, and softer too. Thor closed his eyes, steadied by the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of Hulk’s breathing, and drifted into sleep.

\---

Bruce woke into a serene blur of softly diffused sunlight and gentle birdsong. He ran a heavy hand over his morning-stubbled face, his sleepy eyes squinting into the new day.

“Hmm, what the – Thor?” he puzzled at the soft golden friend snuggling sleepily against him. “How long was I – oh no, where’s my shirt?”

“Good morning, sweet Banner,” Thor said softly. Thor was there. Bruce rubbed his eyes. Thor was still there. It turned out that even in a sleep-rumpled blur, Thor was unfairly pretty. Bruce had apparently kicked off his oversized Hulk-jammies in the night time. He hastily covered himself with the duvet.

“Oh my god, Thor, did I... did we?” he asked.

“Hulk and I had a very good talk,” Thor assured him. Bruce remembered the talk. It was nice. That was all he remembered.

“Oh, man, oh wow, that’s – that’s great,” flustered Bruce, running a hand over his undoubtedly unruly bedhead. “I mean, I don’t remember anything after getting into bed, but I wouldn’t want to have, you know, anything, you know, with, umm, you, and, uhh, yeah.”

Bruce laughed uncomfortably, despite himself. They cuddled, he thought. All night. That was fine. That was more than fine. It was wonderful.

Thor straightened himself then, clapping Bruce on the shoulder before leaping to his feet.

“Yes, of course,” said Thor, his expression unreadable as he tripped over himself on the way to the door. “I’m truly grateful for your friendship, Banner. I shall now leave you to your breakfast! Farewell!”

Bruce sighed, flopping back onto the cushions. The other side of the bed was still warm with Thor’s absent presence. He had, without a doubt, made things weird. Fuck.


	2. Chapter 2

Of all of Loki’s many talents – and Thor, despite the temptation to give fully into sibling rivalry, was not above acknowledging them – the most important was, it turned out, his uncanny ability to know exactly where to go for brunch. Thor was greeted with a massive banquet hall, splendidly painted in red and gold, and filled with the happy chatter of table after table of families and friends. He spotted Loki at the far end of the room, and wove his way between tables and past trolleys laden with towers of bamboo baskets, filled with steaming treasures. Loki was casually sipping on a diminutive cup of tea, while his date whispered something ostensibly hilarious in his ear.

“Well met, brother,” said Loki.

“Well met, brother,” replied Thor, arranging his jacket on the back of his chair. “What’s _he_ doing here?”

“I invited him.” Loki clutched the Grandmaster’s arm with great affection. “He’s my partner.”

“My lllovely lllover Llloki,” lilted the Grandmaster, nuzzling against Loki’s hair like a garishly-plumaged parakeet doting on its oddly-matched flockmate. Loki blushed. Thor felt uncomfortable.

“Yes, yes, I know,” said Thor, desperately trying not to think about it. “It’s just that I thought I’d made it clear I wished to speak with you about a... personal matter.”

“That’s great!” enthused the Grandmaster. “I’ll have you know, I’m kind of an expert at, uhh, personal matters.”

“Great,” said Thor, smiling nervously as a waiter arranged an array of plates and baskets on the table. “Brother, I need some advice.”

Loki nodded sagely. “Ah, finally,” he beamed, taking a long, fluttering sip of his tea. “First off, the cargo shorts are a grave mistake. As for the shirt, _well_ – ”

“No, no, brother,” protested Thor, “I don’t need advice on my shorts.”

The Grandmaster peered at his legs beneath the table, a grimace of abject horror on his face. “You sure about that?” he asked.

This was a mistake, thought Thor.

“All right, all right,” Loki acquiesced, passing Thor a small bowl of what appeared to be some sort of tripe. “What... _personal_ matter can we help with?”

“This may surprise you,” Thor told them, suppressing a blush, “but I seem to have found myself having feelings for someone. Feelings of a... romantical nature.”

“Ah, you mean Bruce,” said Loki, smiling warmly.

Thor blanched. “How did you know?”

“Sparkles, honey.” The Grandmaster smiled fondly, helping himself to a glistening, wiggly little dumpling. “You’re, uhh, you’re not subtle.”

“ _You_ know?”

“Oh please.” Loki rolled his eyes. “It’s as plain as the nose on your little puppy face. And don’t let your tripe get cold.”

Thor was nonplussed to learn that his business was apparently known to everyone but himself. On the other hand, Loki was right about the tripe; indeed, it was richly seasoned with a balance of sharpness and depth, salt and sweetness, and chewier than the slow-boiled stews he remembered from their childhood in Asgard.

“Good tripe,” he agreed.

“You know I take my brunches seriously,” Loki reminded him, softly smooshing a steaming, squishy little bao between his chopsticks. “It’s the best meal of the day. Well, tied for best with breakfast.”

“And second breakfast,” added the Grandmaster. “And, oh, how about, midnight snack?”

“ _Sunshine_ ,” Loki replied, barely hiding a blush behind his teacup, “we’re _meant_ to be solving my idiot brother’s relationship problems, not rubbing it in about how very happy we are together.”

Thor rolled his eyes. “Maybe this wasn’t a good time, I’ll leave you to it,” he said, sliding half a dozen sesame cookies into the generous side pockets of his cargo shorts: how about that, he thought, the shorts were a good choice after all, so _there_.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” insisted Loki. “Believe it or not, I do want to see you happy.”

“Well, you know what, uhh, what uhh, when I first saw, uhh, stardust here, I thought, you know, he’s, he’s, he’s, he’s uhh, he’s. He’s, you know, he’s, he’s, uhh, he’s a, he’s a, a kindred spirit, is what he is,” said the Grandmaster, gesticulating emphatically. “So maybe you’ve found a, uhh, kindred spirit in that, uhh, champ.”

“If only it were true,” Thor sighed, lifting a spoonful of spicy broth, and watching it drip slowly back into the bowl. “But Banner’s made it clear he truly values our friendship, and no more.”

“Did he say that?” asked Loki, washing down a triangle of crisp prawn toast with a sip of tea.

“Not in quite so many words, but – ”

“Oh, so you’re so ready to skirt around your affections for him for the rest of your days, pining away in deference to his wish to just be friends,” said Loki, gingerly setting his teacup down. “Which is noble and good of you, but I’ve got news for you – as much as it pains me to be forced to think about it at all, that man would gladly climb you like a mighty tree, stupid.”

“How do you know this?” asked Thor.

“It’s really quite simple, dear brother.” Loki grinned, leaning forward over a plate of sticky rice. “I’m smarter than you.”

\---

“No, no, no, I fucked it up, I fucked it all up.”

Tony was in full doing-things flow-mode when Bruce burst in, which would have been enough to give Bruce a moment’s pause were he not himself in the midst of a Level Four Tizzy.

“Hold up there, pal,” said Tony, not quite looking up from his tinkering, “let’s just stumble back a few steps. What is it you fucked up?”

It was hard to pace nervously through a workshop as full of things as Tony’s was when Tony was in full Tony Mode, but Bruce made do, stepping awkwardly around this device and that as he fretted.

“Okay, so, you know Thor,” replied Bruce.

“Guy who looks like what would happen if a golden retriever had a baby with a field of sunflowers, yeah,” nodded Tony. “What’d you do? Did you step on his cape?”

“Okay, so I uhh, or rather, Hulk... slept with Thor,” Bruce told him. “Or I did. I mean, when I woke up I was _this_ me, but – ”

“Hold up, just, just slow down for a second,” said Tony, setting down his tools. “You... _slept_ with Thor, you... hit _that_. What was it like? No, I don’t want to know. Or do I? Okay, come on, gimme details, but in ascending order of graphicness just in case it gets weird and I change my mind.”

“No, no, we didn’t – we didn’t hit, it wasn’t,” he clarified. “We cuddled. Apparently.”

“Oh.” Tony almost sounded disappointed. He carefully weaved past Bruce to collect a few doodads, a thingamabob, and a whatsit from the other workbench. “So far I’m failing to see a problem.”

“It’s just that I think maybe Thor got the wrong end of the – ”

“Massive Hulk bingus?”

“No, god, Tony, why, no, why are you like this,” replied Bruce plopping frustratedly down on top of what he hoped was an empty pizza box on a workbench. “Look, yes, I like him, okay? But he’s one of my best friends, and I haven’t... _been_ with anybody in a long time. Like a long time, a long time. There’s a very real risk I could, you know, go green. What if I go green?”

“I can’t think of anybody less likely to be fazed by that than our friend Hammerman,” reasoned Tony, sitting back down at his desk. “Hell, he’s probably into it.”

“You, you think so,” asked Bruce, glancing over Tony’s shoulder.

“Your green self is big and strong and beautiful,” Tony told him. “Why would he not be into that?”

“Oh no,” replied Bruce, “what if that means my average and average and average self can’t live up to that?”

“Hey,” cautioned Tony, gesturing pointedly with a spanner. “Don’t sell yourself short, honey. You’re average-size and average-strength and beautiful.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re my friend,” sighed Bruce.

“Uh-huh,” agreed Tony. “And I make it a personal point only to befriend people who are hot. Go get yourself laid. Hulk does fuck, right?”

“What?”

“I mean, I’m assuming Hulk fucks,” Tony reiterated. “Of course, it’s also fine if you’re not into – ”

“I’ve kind of tried to avoid that outcome, Tony,” Bruce blushed. “Not that it’s exactly come up that often. At all. For, like, years.”

“And that’s exactly why you’re overthinking, Brucio,” said Tony, patting Bruce on the shoulder. “Just hang out with the guy. Talk to him. He likes you. It’s fine.”

“It’s fine,” Bruce repeated.

He was not at all convinced that it was fine.

\---

Thor, towel slung around his shoulders, slid into the too-small flip-flops the facility had kindly provided him for the duration.

“So let me get this straight,” said Korg, smooshing his shoes next to Hiroim’s into the locker as they all padded down the corridor to the sauna. “We sit around in an uncomfortably warm, sweaty room, then jump into a freezing cold pool, then get back in an uncomfortably warm room, and if you’d like, you can be hit repeatedly with tree branches. And this is relaxing.”

“Yes,” beamed Thor. A few paces ahead of them, Bruce recoiled with a shout at the gust of hot steam that hit them as he opened the door. Thor’s heart swelled with uncontrollable fondness.

“Sounds fun,” Korg agreed.

“I’ve only ever come here for lunch,” enthused Bruce, hopping onto one of the wooden benches, and beckoning Thor to join him. “This place does a good soup. ”

“So we sweat, then we feast?” asked Hiroim, settling in next to Korg.

“Indeed, that’s very much the idea,” replied Thor, setting his hands down at his sides.

It was only when he set his hand down that he found not warm wooden bench beneath it, but Bruce’s hand already resting there beneath his own, comfortable and soft. Oh, thought Thor, feeling a blush steadily rising over his cheeks and ever so grateful that he could chalk it up to the heat of the room. After all, Thor did not fluster; indeed, he was a very brave boy. Man. God, dammit, and a very brave god of thunder at that. Perhaps Bruce had not noticed Thor’s hand at all and he could extricate it without incident – as tempting as it was to lean into the touch, caress Bruce’s soft palm with the pad of his thumb, lace their fingers together with a tender squeeze.

“Well, if I can’t take you to the fires of Mount Krona, babe, this is almost as warm,” shrugged Korg, his arm around Hiroim’s shoulder. “Not bad for a double date.”

A double date, thought Thor – perhaps he was the only one in the room who had not got the memo. He was within a hair’s breadth of working up the gumption to properly hold Bruce’s hand, when

“Oh,” Bruce blinked, practically leaping from the bench. “Would you look at that! Buckets!”

And then he unceremoniously dumped five gallons of ice water over his head.

\---

“There he is!” Valkyrie smiled as she bounded into the room.

Hulk had forgotten it was their day at the gym. He grunted in response, his shoulders rising and dropping with a heavy sigh.

“Hey, what’s got into you?” She tapped him on the arm with her fist.

“Don’t know,” he huffed.

“You sure about that, mate?” she asked, plopping herself down next to him on the edge of the bed.

Hulk grumbled. “Feelings,” he said, at last.

“Feelings about what?”

“Shut up.” He immediately regretted saying it.. “Feelings stupid. Hulk stupid.”

“Hey, hey, hey, stop it,” she chided him. “Did somebody tell you you’re stupid? Who do I need to fight?”

Hulk shook his head gravely. “Hulk just stupid. Stupid feelings.” He hesitated to say anything else, but he trusted Valkyrie not to make fun of him. Much. “... Thor.”

Valkyrie sighed, leaning into Hulk’s side. Valkyrie was the first friend that Hulk had made who had not known him first as Banner. She was fun and funny, with an angry undercurrent of the things she did not like to speak of. She was a rarity even among friends: she saw his green self first, and she saw in him a person with feelings and needs, an interesting person – a friend, rather than a weapon to be deployed only when the team needed something smashed, and then carefully tucked away when his presence was an inconvenience. She showed him kindness and affection without fear, and he was glad to be afforded the opportunity to do the same. He did not have the words to express how grateful he was to count her among his friends, but he hoped she knew.

“Right. What did he say to you?” she asked. “He’s an idiot, but – ”

“Thor good friend,” protested Hulk, pounding his fist uselessly against the tumble of soft cushions piled next to him. “Thor nice... Special.”

“Oh,” nodded Valkyrie, her expression somewhere between teasing and concern. “ _Oh_. You like, like Thor?”

“Love Thor.” Hulk turned away from her, hiding his face as best he could, lest she notice just how much he was blushing.

“Ah, you big soft blouse,” she replied. He resisted the urge to shrug her away as she draped her arms over him, her chin coming to rest on his shoulder. “Does he know?”

Hulk glanced over at the pillows, remembering the subtle indentations he and Thor had left in their slumber. He remembered falling asleep to the sound of Thor’s gentle snores, snuggled comfortably in Hulk’s arms. His hair was soft, and smelled of warm spices mingling in the clear, cool air of a northern hinterland where the beach met the woods, in the moment of stillness just after a summer thunderstorm. His intention had been to comfort Thor, but he too had felt comforted in turn.

“Banner got scared,” he said. “Said something stupid.”

“It can’t have been that bad,” reasoned Valkyrie.

“Don’t know.” Hulk was wracking his brain for an answer. “How Hulk make better? Hulk not smart like Banner. Hulk have unique speech pattern. Not like, hi, I’m Dr. Bruce Banner, I have a hundred PhDs and I think I’m _sooo_ much better than Hulk but really I’m a big stupid idiot who doesn’t know how to talk about his feelings.”

“Hey.” Valkyrie sat back, her stare at first intimidating, then softening into something more sympathetic. “You know that isn’t true.”

“All right, all right,” he conceded. It was hard to let go of those feelings when they slipped back into his mind, that his presence was an inconvenience at best. “More like, hi, I’m Dr. Bruce Banner and it turns out not even a million PhDs can stop me from being super bad at relationships with people?”

“Better, but still not very nice.”

Hulk rose from the bed, the shift in the mattress sending Valkyrie stumbling onto her side. “Hulk make tea.”

“You got anything stronger in there, big fella?” she asked, following him into the kitchen.

“Angry girl drink too much,” replied Hulk, carefully clattering two clean mugs from the mug tree. “ _Hulk make tea_.”

Valkyrie shrugged. “Yeah, go on then.”

“This one good, sweet,” Hulk told her, dropping a teabag into each mug. “Hint of lavender.”

Valkyrie raised an eyebrow.

“What?” he protested. “Hulk like lavender!”

“I didn’t say anything.” 

“Hmm.” Hulk closed his eyes, taking in the sweet, floral aroma of the tea. There was a whisper of cinnamon in the finish, he thought: it was warm and gentle, and quieted his mind.

“So, you gonna talk to Thor?” she asked him.

“Don’t know,” he replied.

“Listen.” She took a deep inhale of the fragrant vapour rising from her tea, scrunched her nose a bit, shrugged, and took a heavy sip. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk to him, if you want to sit around and mope like a sad baby never knowing if you could just be dating him. But let me tell you: that idiot has a heart of pure Asgardian gold, and even if he didn’t want to date you, which he absolutely would, he’d never not want to be your friend.”

Hulk let out a heavy sigh, downing the rest of his tea in one. Perhaps she was right, he thought, if he could keep himself from saying anything else stupid.

“Besides,” she continued, “I need my gym buddy back. There might be other people on Midgard who can keep up with me, but none of them are nearly as much fun.”


	3. Chapter 3

Some things were best saved for special occasions, thought Thor; on the other hand, sometimes such things could easily comprise an occasion in themselves. This was why he had invited his dear friend Banner around to share a tin of surströmming (surely one of the best foods Midgard had to offer) on an otherwise average Tuesday: a date, perhaps – or perhaps just a pair of robust gentlemen enjoying a warriors’ picnic, a flute or two of sparkling Asgardian mead, and each other’s company.

“I wanted to share something special with you,” he told Bruce, retrieving the heavy tin from the refrigerator. “A delicacy.”

“A delicacy,” repeated Bruce, as Thor handed the tin over for inspection. Bruce was wearing a shirt that Thor found himself especially fond of: it was a flattering shade of deep blue, and the material looked so soft, though Thor had not had occasion to find out for certain. 

“It’s a kind of fish,” he explained, gathering together a pot of soft butter and a small container of chopped green onions. “You see, they take the herrings, and ferment them until – ”

“Thor, the can looks like it’s about to burst,” replied Bruce, scrutinising the cheerful yellow and red packaging. “And it’s six months out of date.”

“That’s how you know it’s ready to eat!” beamed Thor, handing Bruce the tin opener.

“Are you sure?”

“As my esteemèd guest, I’ll allow you to do the honours,” he said, smiling the charmingest, most romantical smile he had in him before turning back to the cupboard. “Now, let me just find the crispbreads and we’ll make haste to – ”

But before Thor could finish his sentence – which would have ended with “the park” – Bruce had already clamped down on the near-bursting edge of the tin, breaking the heavily pressurised seal with a hiss and a spray of fermented herring brine.

“Banner, no!” exclaimed Thor, spinning round on his heel to see a very sheepish Hulk perched on his slightly straining countertop, can opener still clinging to the lip of the half-opened tin, and that soft blue shirt Thor had so admired fluttered in irreparable tatters to the floor.

There was a pause, before The Smell reached Thor. Pungent would be putting it politely: it permeated the kitchen, and would soon require several days of industrial strength airing-out for his home to be rid of it. It was enough to shake the composure of a god. Thor’s eyes began to water.

“I had hoped to wait until we were outside,” he managed to say, coughing slightly on his words. “Somewhere very well-ventilated.”

Carefully, Hulk pinched a number of slippery fillets from the tin, wincing as he went in for a closer sniff.

“Good fish,” he said, chewing thoughtfully. “Strong. Stinky, but good.”

Indeed, the fish itself was delicious, thought Thor: salty and complex, once one muscled their way past its powerfully fermented bouquet.

“Shall we get out of here?” suggested Thor, heaving slightly. “It’s going to – ugh – it’s not going to get any better in here for a few days.”

Hulk nodded, jumping back to the floor with a soft thump.

“Hulk have house,” he replied, suddenly standing very, very close to Thor indeed. “Hulk order pizza. Hulk have Lego. Hulk have... cuddles?”

“I’d like that,” Thor smiled, his heartbeat thrumming in his ears loud enough that he could scarcely hear the words whispering out of him. “Cuddles sound splendid, my friend.”

Hulk smiled softly in return. “Good,” he said, leaning carefully down for a soft kiss, the tang of the brine still on his lips.

“Good,” Thor agreed, almost breathless. Under any other circumstance he might have minded being kissed in a room full of the extremely potent smell of a tin of surströmming which he was beginning to think may have actually been slightly past its best; on this occasion, however, he found his senses almost overwhelmed by the warmth of Hulk’s dark eyes smiling at him, and the two strong arms gently encircling his waist. “Let’s go.”

“Thor want garlic bread with pizza?” Hulk asked him, as they strode, arm in arm, into the mercifully fresh air.

“What manner of monster could say no to garlic bread?” replied Thor.

“Hmm,” said Hulk, giving the question due consideration. “Vampires.”

“You’re a very wise companion,” Thor laughed, placing a gentle kiss on Hulk’s arm. “And I, sweet Hulk, am no vampire. Onward!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I'm just as relieved as you are that these two nerds finally got together. Why not [come say hello on tumblr](http://whatthefoucault.tumblr.com), and please do give all of the love to [my wonderful illustrator](http://nonexistenz.tumblr.com)!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Art] Surströmming](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23106100) by [Nonexistenz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonexistenz/pseuds/Nonexistenz)




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